I love popcorn. It’s literally my favorite. Like, desert island and stranded? Popcorn please. One of the most frustrating things about popcorn, in my experience anyway, is that whenever I try to grab a big old fistful, much of it ends up escaping my clutches by the time my hand reaches my mouth and I’m left with a (totally reasonable) few popped kernels. It’s like, the more I try to grab, the more I drop. And then I’m frustrating my enjoyment. Which is sorta silly and counterproductive.
There’s a lot of things right now.
I think I’m tired. But I’m also restless. But mostly I’m tired.
If you’re here because you’re into astrology, for your edification, my natal Mars is at 13 degrees of Taurus and so it is both in a conjunction with transiting Uranus and squaring transiting Saturn.
It’s like a FREEDOM, Karma, hard work, independence, action, exhaustion party. Woot!
I finally remembered this astrological event in my chart the other day which is amusing because when I started deep diving into astrology a few years ago it was to figure out why exactly my life was so shitty. These days I barely remember to look at my own chart. Ups and downs toss themselves around me and I’m fairly steady no matter where shit’s blowing.
But some stuff has come up recently and I yelled, “What in the actual fuck are you guys doing to me right now?” That’s how I talk to the planets. They’re my anthropomorphized teammates, and life is better. Sure, we fight sometimes, but in the end we have a purpose to fulfill. Like Hell’s Kitchen. Or something.
The second I dusted off my chart (metaphorically because it lives free of actual dust in the computer) I saw what I was in the middle of and it all made sense.
Sometimes the best way to describe what’s going on with me now is to describe something that has happened in the past.
I stumbled across my manifestation journal from a few years ago and read an entry where I was manifesting the perfect dude.
“Wears a cowboy hat, loves country music, supports my crazy spiritual shit, makes me laugh, is really hot, laughs during sex (not at me but with me)…”
The funny thing is Zeke and I had broken up when I wrote that list and I lived in another state and he was seeing someone else.
I actually don’t even really KNOW how we got back together. Or when. It wasn’t something we necessarily planned. I do believe that Covid is primarily responsible.
Once the pandemic hit I looked around and thought, “Wait. Nobody is looking. Like, nobody. What should I do?” Trusty old Larry piped up, “So what do you really want to do? While no one is watching? Hurry! Don’t think! Just do it!”
So I started driving back and forth between two states and getting back together with the guy I’d manifested in my journal.
I happen to think it’s really sweet that without even realizing it I’d described Zeke in my manifestation list of the perfect guy.
Also, it was so far outside the realm of possibility to me that we’d end up back together that it didn’t occur to me to get in the way of it by grubbying it up with my hands all over the process. Ha! This amuses me A LOT.
I sense things are lining up like that again and best I can do is move as I’m called and rest while I have time.
There are a lot of moving parts and I can barely keep up which I feel is the point. The Universe is moving quickly and I actually think I’m not supposed to ‘try’ to do anything at the moment, which I suck at frankly. ‘Trying’ is deeply ingrained. And I’m pretty sure the invisible assholes around me know this and are doing their best to keep me disoriented. Though they’d probably call it ‘in receptive mode’. Which is fair.
So I’ll be over here doing my best to mindfully ingest popcorn while watching my life lay out before me, one reasonable handful at a time. Because I don’t want to miss anything by trying to grab too much at once.
Teresa Zube 